Hole in the Heart
by Jaclyn
Summary: The whole good and evil thing's got Wesley confused right now, but he'll do the right thing. Response to Habeas Corpses. [I just couldn't resist.]


  
**Hole in the Heart **  
by Jaclyn // musicnotej@aol.com  
12.06.03  
  
Disclaimer: Very much Whedon's.  
Timeline: Takes off from the middle of Habeas Corpses.  
A/N: Hugs to Becky for the read-through.  
  
*  
  
A man by the name of Ben Hecht once said, "Love is a hole in the heart." But Lilah knows this isn't true. Love is a hole in the _gut_ while watching your lover walk away and leave you in a sewer. If, after all that, you still don't want to flamebroil him alive or offer his body up in a painful ritual to some rancid-smelling demon...then, and only then, do you truly have the right to say that you're in love.   
  
_Well, that's just great_, Lilah thinks acidly as she drags herself forward. _So what they say is true. Love actually does exist_. Not that it's doing Lilah a fat load of good at the moment. Really, as fairytales go, this one's a keeper: the dragon lady meets a man who turns her into a princess and they live happily ever after. Providing a) she doesn't die first, and b) Wesley takes a nosedive off his high horse and thinks twice about sending her on her limping way. For fuck's sake, a creature made of _rock_ had his entire hand in her abdomen. And not in that good way.   
  
It's at this point that Lilah's internal running commentary is reduced to distant background noise that sounds something like _fuckfuckfuck_. She leans heavily against the wall, fingers scrabbling for purchase while trying not to jar her wound. But it's too much; the pain is like an avalanche, worsening with every breath, and apparently her snarky thoughts just aren't a strong enough anesthesia.   
  
She's slipping downward, about to crash into that -- _fuck_ -- suspicious looking puddle when a pair of strong arms encircles her. Lilah closes her eyes.   
  
"Crap. Hallucinations not good," she mutters.   
  
"I'm not a hallucination."   
  
"Voices even worse sign..."   
  
"Lilah," Wesley's voice says patiently. "Did you notice how you stopped in mid fall? Could a hallucination be capable of helping you resist gravity?"   
  
Lilah takes a moment to breathe as deeply as she can without stretching the aforementioned hole in her stomach. She is sort of lucid, but after all this blood loss it's hard to think with anything that resembles clarity. Though now that she doesn't have to worry about keeping herself upright, she has slightly more brainpower.   
  
"Wesley, you are the biggest asshole I have ever met!" Lilah near-shouts furiously. "And I work in, as you know, an _evil_ law firm. So that's really saying something." She pauses at the thready sound of her own voice. "And I'd be saying it louder, too, if I hadn't just been practically eviscerated."   
  
"There's really no proper response to that," Wesley grunts, lifting Lilah carefully and cradling her to his body. His voice echoes eerily in the cavernous sewer tunnel as Lilah winds her arms around his neck. And even given all that has and hasn't been said between them, there's a kind of familiarity in the position, a kind of comfort.   
  
"How about 'I'm sorry'?" she suggests softly, resting her head against his shoulder. "And 'I won't do it again.'" The pulse in his throat beats like a frantic tapping against her forehead, reminding her of just how slowly her own heart is pumping. "If you're going to say anything, you'd better say it fast, though. I think I'm gonna pass out soon."   
  
"I'm sorry," Wesley says, managing to sound like he's directing the full force of his attention towards Lilah, even as he's trying to simultaneously support her weight in the cradle of his arms and pull them up a ladder without the use of the three hands the task requires. "And I'll never do it again. And even though our situation is..."   
  
"Fucked-up?"   
  
"Complex," Wesley settles on, ever the proper gentleman, "we'll figure it out. Two intelligent adults--"   
  
But Lilah is slipping, and pain-free oblivion is sounding mighty fine right about now. "Guh'night, Wes," she murmurs almost inaudibly, and blacks out.   
  
"Right then. One intelligent adult and one unconscious one," he amends, though no one can hear him. He hefts Lilah into a fireman's carry -- unconscious people don't feel pain, though they do get infections, and Wesley hopes this isn't a horrible idea. Not that there are any other options available to him in this dank cesspit of a sewer.   
  
Finally ascending the damnable ladder, Wesley steps into the darkness of this strange night and heads for the Hyperion. In his arms, Lilah is bleeding but alive.   
  
  
END   
  



End file.
